Verdant: A Christmas Story
by Asterie-Smiles
Summary: Verdant is Christmas. Verdant is Slytherin. Verdant is the colour of jealousy’s eyes, and Harry Potter’s, too. Response to the Armchair Slash Christmas Challenge.


Verdant: A Christmas Story 

**by S_Star**

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  

All quotes are attributed in the fic, and the line about bread-slicing charms is from someone else's story, but I can't for the life of me remember whose.  Anyway, give me no credit.

**Pairing: **Harry/Draco

**Rating: **R

**Summary:  **Verdant is Christmas. Verdant is Slytherin. Verdant is the colour of jealousy's eyes, and Harry Potter's, too. Response to the Armchair Slash Christmas Challenge.

**AN: **Damn, this whole thing sounds so forced...Probably because I haven't written anything but dark and angsty one-shots since 'Marked', which is a depressing thought if there ever was one.  Also because I can never seem to write dialogue.  Warning: fluffy in parts.

Anyway, this challenge response was inspired by my chosen picture, 'Mark Part 1' by Diana, found at ; brought to you by BBC Radio 1, Asda Coffee, and Nestlé After Eight Mints; and dedicated to DKFairy who gave me the kick up the butt I needed to get this written.

VERDANT – A CHRISTMAS STORY December 11th: The Idea And it all came out at the first rehearsal 

_That the muse in my head, she's universal_

~ Placebo, 'Nancy Boy'

It was at the beginning of sixth year that I realised that I was not only attracted to women.  After brief yet equally enjoyable flings with both Theodore Nott and – Merlin help me – Millicent Bulstrode, I decided that I must have been blessed with the ability to choose partners from either gender.

Unfortunately for me, it was the Weasel who first found out about my sexual preferences (though I hasten to add that I did not make a pass at him: I would never sink that low).  At the start of this year he heard me telling Blaise in the Charms corridor that I was entitled to sleep with both him and Pansy if I so wished and that he couldn't dictate my preferences to me.

Weasel was, of course, walking past at just that moment, and he spat at me and called me a 'fucking faggot'.  I pointed out that I was actually bisexual, thank you very much, and he raced off with a manic glint in his eye.  He left his book in the classroom in his hurry to spread my supposedly sordid secret through the school.

I heard him shouting particularly loudly the next morning that 'It's just his excuse for shagging anything that moves', followed by Granger hushing him and insisting that 'a tenth of the population are gay or bi, Ron, leave him alone'.  That comment really made me wonder about her, although it is fairly obvious to everyone with eyes that she and the Weasel are going to get married and have lots of children made even more rodent-like by the buck teeth they'll inherit from her – magic can't undo genetics. 

But the biggest surprise was Potter keeping quiet.  He didn't give me weirder looks than usual across the Hall; he didn't laugh at me or taunt me in classes; he just...ignored it.  We argued – as usual – and I won – as usual – and he didn't make any mention of it.  That was my first inspiration.

I had noticed that Potter was very good looking a while ago: it was a fact, just like the Weasel-Granger affair.  The Quaffle's red, Trelawney's nuts, and Harry Potter is a very fine piece of arse indeed.

So when I drew up this year's Christmas list, I wrote the name 'Potter' at the bottom with some of the invisible ink I brewed for my Potions assignment and resolved to get hold of him before the New Year came in.

That left me three weeks to come up with a perfect Slytherin plan to snag my supposed nemesis, although I have recently been assuring myself that it's completely normal to sublime burning lust into seething hatred, and that if nearly fifty percent of best friends started out as enemies, a lot of lovers must have, too.

December 13th: The Plan 

_'I hate him.'_

_Zach looked up, surprised, and saw that Trevor meant it. 'How come?'_

_'Because of how he looked at you.'_

~ Poppy Z. Brite, 'Drawing Blood'

It took me two days and many – as ashamed as I am to confess it – of Daphne Greengrass's Muggle romance films to come up with my ingenious scheme, but it was absolutely perfect.

People worshipped Potter.  They saw him to be the best thing since bread-slicing charms, and would kill for his cast-offs.  Creepy Creevey has been known to scrape leftover pumpkin pie from his plate before, and Ginger Weasel apparently keeps one of his worn shirts under her pillow so she can smell him when she sleeps.

It made sense, therefore, that when he broke up with Loony Lovegood, previously a social reject, she received owls from approximately a quarter of the school requesting dates; and that the same would apply to anyone else he happened to date.

This surfaced when Daff rolled her eyes as a movie ended and said that it was always the same plot: people making people jealous but ending up with the pretend partner, and though I was practically asleep by that point, I heard her comment and everything clicked.

It was amazing.  I would tell Potter that I needed his help in getting a gorgeous guy (I decided on Theodore; he owed me a favour), and that I'd make it worth his while if he pretended to be my boyfriend for a set time.  He would realise that he loved kissing me and spending time with me, even with another motive, and beg me to sleep with him.  I would eventually give in and hence would follow much sex and the Weasel's death by shock.  It was going to be brilliant.

**December 16th: The Deal**

The first lesson you have to learn in life is that you never agree to anything without first asking 'what's in it for me?'

~ Anonymous

The first part of my plan went perfectly: Theodore was more than willing to play the part for me; it was quite well-known that he admired Potter (maybe the wolf-whistles did it), and he remembered that I had bailed him out of at least six Transfiguration assignments in the past year, at my own expense.  The next step, then, was to ask the boy himself.

'Potter!'  I sped up the hill to the school after changing out of my Quidditch gear, cursing him for lacking the hygiene sense to have a proper shower after the match.  He walked faster.  'Potter, for Merlin's sake, wait a second!'

He finally stopped, annoyance and the smell of sweat rolling off him in waves.  'What do you want now, Malfoy?'

I leant against the castle wall, panting slightly.  'What, I can't come and talk to my favourite rival occasionally without having my every motive questioned?'

'Has anyone ever told you that you don't make much sense when you speak?'

I waved a hand dismissively.  'That's beside the point.  Potter, I have a deal for you.'

'A deal?  With you?'  He was even more confused now, and I smiled.

'Well, part of a deal.  I need to know what you want before I can outline the full details.'

'What I want?'

I rolled my eyes.  'Fine, we'll start at the beginning, then.  A deal, Potter, is when one person offers goods or services in exchange for a favour from another person.'

'And you want to know...'

'...What goods and services you would like, yes.  Could we possibly hurry this up a bit?'

'Well, I was looking at the new Nimbus Plus racing brooms...'  He narrowed his eyes.  'Wait, a favour?'

'Merlin, Potter, are you really that slow?  Yes, a favour.'

'What kind of a favour?'

'I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a few days.'

'Your boyfriend?'  

I decided it was a good sign that he hadn't run off screaming and continued.  'Exactly.  You see, I fancy the pants off Theodore Nott, and he won't sleep with me even though I _know_ he's gay, but I know that if he thinks I'm good enough for you he'll come around to the idea.'

'Wait, hold on, you, Draco Malfoy, are having problems getting a guy?  A _Slytherin_ guy?'

'Shuttup, Potter, this conversation is embarrassing enough without you emphasising my inadequacies.'

'Inadequacies?'  He looked positively gleeful.

'That's not what I meant and you know it!' I snapped, before remembering that this was meant to be a relatively civil conversation.  'Will you do it or not?'

'That depends.  What exactly will this involve me doing?'

'Coming to Hogsmeade with me over Christmas to buy presents, kissing me in corridors, loudly proclaiming my sexual prowess in Theodore's hearing range.'  I ticked them off on my fingers.

'I have to _kiss _you?'

'Well, of course, you'll get to practise first...'

'Practise?'

'Can't you say anything but questions?  Yes, practise.  I'm not going to have you making me look like a bad kisser in front of the guy of my dreams just because you're inexperienced.'

'Inex—'

'Please, can you honestly say you snogged Loony more than twice in your entire relationship?  Every girl you go out with—'

'Oh my God, girls!  Malfoy, everyone in the entire school is going to think I'm either gay or a slut like you!'

'I am not a slut, Potter, I am bisexual!  When will you bloody Gryffindors learn that it is perfectly normal for some people to like both men and women?!'  I stopped yelling at the sight of the slightly worried look on his face.  'I mean, _Harry_, I said I would make this worth your while.  I will buy you a brand new Nimbus Plus if you'll just help me out with this one tiny thing.'

'I'm not sure...'

'Please, Potter?  It's Christmas!'  I was also going to have to work into the deal that no one ever found out I'd begged him.

'All right then.  But only for ten days.  If it's not done by then...'

'You can bugger off and I'll still buy you the damn broom, yes.'

'Okay then, meet me at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom tomorrow night at nine and we'll figure this whole thing out.'

He turned and walked away and I suppressed my urge to laugh evilly with amazing success.  Damn, I was good.

**December 17th: The Practice**

Practice makes perfect: we'll have to do it again and again until I'm satisfied.

~ Forwarded e-mail: 101 Lines You Should _Never _Use

I brought Daff to our meeting that first day.  She was the only Slytherin, except Theodore, whom I'd dared tell about the plan, and was overjoyed at the prospect of helping.

'If only,' she confided, 'to watch the two hottest guys in this castle snogging.'  She broke down into fits of giggles when Harry walked into the room, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion.

'What's she doing here?'

'She's here to help.  Why, Potter, were you hoping to be alone with me?'

'Sod off, Malfoy, I'm only in this because I'm in line for an expensive reward.  How exactly is she going to help?'

Recovering from her hysterics, Daff stood up.  'I'm going to ensure that the two of you become lovers by the end of the night.'

'Was that meant to sound how it came out?' asked Potter, frowning again.

'Of course,' she replied archly.  'Now kiss.'

'What?'

'She said 'kiss', Potter, did you not understand?'

'Of course I understood, it's just...'

'Look, I have a Runes class to get to at seven o'clock tomorrow morning, and I'd like to get at least five minutes of sleep before that, so will you please just kiss before I have to force your mouths together?'

I decided to take the initiative – Daff isn't nice when she's pissed off, as I know from repressed personal experience – and pressed my lips against Potter's, pushing him flush against the door.

I could feel him forcing himself to comply, consciously slipping his arms around my waist and tentatively pulling me closer, and I nudged his mouth open with my tongue and tasted him.  I almost lost it at the feeling of his nervous caresses and the taste of the chocolate frog I'd seen him eating after dinner, but restrained myself and instead gently stroked his hair, coaxing him to relax.  He jumped and pushed me away suddenly as I slipped a hand under his shirt.

'Was that really necessary?'

'Don't be ridiculous, Potter, of course it was necessary.  How is Theodore meant to believe that we're together if we kiss like a couple of first years?'  I made a show of wiping my mouth with a Malfoy-monogrammed handkerchief before turning to Daff.  'How did that look?'

'Uh...' She shook her head suddenly.  'Yeah, that was...very convincing.  You should do it more, though.  A _lot _more.'

I raised an eyebrow and Potter snickered softly.

'Not now, though,' she added, composing herself.  'Now you've gotta be cute.  Coupley.  Harry and Draco.'

Potter blanched.  'God help me, I think I'd rather do more snogging.'

December 19th: The Display 

Judgemental?  If I was any more open-minded about the choices you two make, my whole brain would fall out!

~ Buffy, 'The Yoko Factor'

'What the _hell_ have I got myself into?' I asked Daff as I paced back and forth across the Entrance Hall.

She shrugged.  'Your idea.  I'm just here to offer support and take photographs of Weasley's face when he sees the two of you.'

I whirled round and stared at her.  'You have a camera?'

'Of course.  Snape's gonna look amazing, and I'm betting at least one Gryffindor will turn purple...'

'You're not seriously considering bringing that...that _thing _into the Hall today, are you?'  I tried to make my tone icy, but I think it was more of a snap.

'Draco, I'm not going to miss this for the world.'

'Fine, as long as no pictures of Potter and me...'  She smirked.  'Wait, what are you planning?'

'I'm not planning anything, really!'

'Why do I find that hard to believe?'  I advanced on her to try and steal the camera when Potter tapped me on the shoulder.

'You ready to do this?'

'Does it _look _like I'm ready to you?'

'God, Malfoy—'  Daff glared.  '_Draco_, it was your idea.  Not that it wouldn't be great if you decided to stop this insanity and save me the biggest embarrassment of my life, but...'

Composing myself, I turned and held out my hand to him.  'Harry, don't be stupid.  If this wasn't the single most important day of my life since I inherited my fortune, we wouldn't be here in the first place.  Besides, you should _never_ be embarrassed to be seen with me.  It is the highest honour to be the partner of a Malfoy.'

He elbowed me and sighed heavily.  'Shut up and let's get this over with.'

Between Daff's now practically trademarked giggles, she muttered a showy opening charm for the Hall doors and gestured us in.

The entire population of the school had decided to have an early breakfast, it seemed, but the Hall still managed to go quiet in the seconds after we walked in.  I thought they were staring at our clasped hands, as planned, until Potter tugged on my arm.

'Uh...Draco?'

'Yes?'

He glanced up and I followed his gaze to where a piece of mistletoe was being hovered right above our heads.  Daff's giggles, the only sound in the room, intensified, and I heard the click of her camera before she choked out, 'What are you waiting for, Draco?  Snog him already!'

I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly and dipped Potter backwards before kissing him hard, to the sound of bemused applause from a couple of the Hufflepuffs, curious whispers from the Ravenclaws and Slytherins and something that sounded distinctly like choking from the vicinity of the Gryffindor table.

The camera clicked about five times in quick succession before I broke the kiss and pulled Potter back up, and he leaned a hand on my chest for support.

'Next time you're going to tip me backwards without warning, tell me first,' he murmured, his face as red as the holly berries adorning the staff table.

I wondered exactly what his definition of 'without warning' was, but decided to let it slip as a consequence of my amazing kissing skills.  'But what would the fun be in that?' I asked with a smirk, planting another soft kiss on his lips.  'Have a nice day, _lover_.'

Shouts rose up from everywhere in the Hall as we sat down, especially the Gryffindor table, where I watched with what I'm sure was a smug expression as Granger gave the Weasel a dressing down in her bossiest voice and Potter stared at me as he poured pumpkin juice all over his porridge.

**December 20th: The Outing**

_You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap, lousy faggot,_

_Happy Christmas you arse, I pray God it's our last._

~ The Pogues & Kirsty McColl, 'Fairytale of New York'

'So, _Harry, _are you ready to shop?'  I asked, in a good mood usually unheard of at this time of morning, especially when it was as cold as it was then.

'Sod off, Malfoy,' he replied sullenly, staring at the ground.

'What's the matter?'

'You know what the bloody matter is.'  He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked faster.

I jogged a little to catch up.  'No, I don't.  Enlighten me.'

'Isn't it obvious?  Ron is refusing to talk to me, Hermione is disappointed in my choice of boyfriend,' there was extra acid on the last word, 'and I've had lectures from everyone in fifth year and above about betraying my house.'

'So?'

'So I've been helping you for all of two days and you're already ruining my life!'

'That's a bit harsh, Harry, really.  I can't help it if your precious Gryffindors are jealous of what we have.'

'Jealous?  JEALOUS?!  What the hell does anyone have to be jealous of?  Everyone knows you're a bastard; that's why Theodore Nott won't shag you!  You have to get off your high horse for ten minutes and realise that things won't always go your way.  You can't expect everything to fall at your feet just because you want it or you've planned it, and he isn't gonna sleep with you cuz you've had some imaginary fling with me!'

I folded my arms and waited for him to finish. 'And why not?'

'What?'

'Why shouldn't I expect things to go my way?  I'm _me_.  I'm a Slytherin.  I'm a Malfoy.  My plans are always amazingly brilliant; my looks are to die for; I have more money than anyone in this school, including the you _and_ the teachers; and I wouldn't want to shag Theodore bloody Nott again anyway, he was a _terrible _lay.' I had pulled off superiority perfectly, as usual, except... 'Shit.'

'That seems about right.'  He folded his arms in return and glared.

'Now, Potter, I can explain this.  You see...' I fumbled for an answer, and thanked my father's ghost for my ability to think on my feet.  'I wasn't really after Theodore; I was after someone else, but I didn't think you'd play along if you knew who it was, so I lied.'

'Was it a Gryffindor?'

I nodded slowly, wondering exactly why I always threw myself head first into insane situations like this.

'Was it...was it Ron?'

'_Weasley?_ You're bloody kidding me!  I have taste, you know.'

'Seamus?  Dean?  _Neville?_'

'Look, why don't we leave that subject for now and discuss what I should buy Snape for Christmas?'

'You're getting Snape a Christmas present?'

And...topic changed.  I told him I was talented.

'Of course, he is my godfather, after all.  You used to buy presents for Black, didn't you?'

Potter hissed a breath, and I could practically hear him counting to ten in his mind.  'His name was Sirius.  Remember it.'  He turned and continued down towards Hogsmeade high street, and I heard him mutter, 'I swear, you'd better get me a servicing kit and full warranty for that broom.'

I added the cost to my mental checklist and ran after him and grabbed his frozen hand.  'So, the broom shop first, then?'

**December 22nd: The Mistake**

If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it.

~ Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean

'You never told me who it was you fancied,' Harry said suddenly as we waited on the steps to the dungeon for everyone to arrive to the Potions lesson.  She had insisted that we shouldn't even _think _of each other as Malfoy and Potter, which was taking – not surprisingly – very little effort on my part.

'Sorry?'

'You said you liked a Gryffindor, but you never told me who it was.'

I smiled.  'No, I didn't, did I?'

'So?'

'So what?'

'So who is it?'

'I'm not actually going to tell you, you realise.'

'Why not?  You bought me the Nimbus, I can't back out now.'

'Yes, you can.  We discussed this in the first conversation.'

'No, we agreed that I can quit after ten days.  Not that I can quit in the middle.'  He shook his head and scowled as his veritable mane of hair flopped over his face.

'You remembered that?'

He shrugged, pushing his fringe out of his eyes.  'Sure.  That way I know if you're trying to make me do something I didn't agree to.'

'What happened to your notorious forgetfulness and gullibility?'

'I'm notorious for being forgetful and gullible?'

I snorted daintily.  'Of course you are.  You're a good-looking hero with nothing between his ears, just like Godric Gryffindor, except he probably got laid much, much more.'

'Hey!  I'm clever, I got an O in my Potions OWL!  And I'm not good-looking, either, my hair's too long.'

'Please, Harry, if you weren't one of the best-looking people in this school, why would I be using you to make someone else jealous?  The Potterphiles exist for a reason, you know.'

'You think I'm one of the—'

That probably wasn't the best moment for our classmates to arrive, but they did, and it was instinct by that point for me to push Harry against the wall and kiss him hard.  As the Gryffindors turned the corner and saw us, I could hear Brown and Patil gasping as usual and the others muttering in disgust, and for once I decided to throw caution to the wind.  I pushed my hips forward against Harry's, and he broke our kiss to breathe and threw his head back, moaning loudly at the friction.

Merlin, I wished I was trying to make someone jealous: with the display he was putting on, anyone I desired would fall at my feet in moments.  But I wanted him and he wanted a racing broom, although he was such a good kisser that for a few seconds I didn't really care, until he froze suddenly and his eyes snapped open accusingly and I realised with mortification that I was hard against his hip.

His emerald irises were frosty yet smouldering at the same time, and I couldn't gather anything from his expression except that he was pretty damn pissed off.

'Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, I shouldn't have to tell you that this kind of behaviour is inappropriate for a public corridor,' came Snape's cold voice, 'or even in private, in my opinion,' he added softly as he passed us.

Harry nudged me away mock-gently and muttered that for the first time ever, he actually agreed with Snape, and as he turned away to enter the classroom, I felt there had never been a better time to tell him who I really wanted.

That is, if he hadn't figured it out already.

**December 25th: The Consequence**

_She's all that he wants, she's all that he needs,_

_She's everything he just won't believe_

_Take away his doubt, turn him inside out_

_Then she can see what he's been dying to say_

_But things don't always turn out that way._

~ The Calling, 'Things Don't Always Turn Out That Way'

It was about two o'clock on Christmas morning when he came into my room, eyes blazing.   He placed a hissed silencing charm around the bed before sitting at the end and staring at me.

I didn't bother to acknowledge his presence, because that's not how this dream usually goes, but I bolted upright when he shouted, 'What the _fuck_ was up on Monday?'

'Merlin, Harry, it's two in the bloody morning, can't this wait?'

'No, _Draco, _it can't.  What...what did you _do_?'

I raised my eyebrows.  'You seriously don't know?'

'Well, I know _what _happened, I just don't know _why._'

'And you couldn't have asked me at a slightly more human hour?  You've had at least two days!'

'Stop avoiding the question and just _tell me_, dammit!'  His voice lowered.  'Do...do you want _me_?'

I rolled my eyes.  'Harry—'

'Was this whole thing...' He illustrated with the wave of his arm; he always seems to talk in gestures when he's angry, '...all to get me?  Because it's not going to happen like that.'

'Are you sure?' I asked, 'Because if I'm not mistaken, you're in my bed right now.'

Before I could think, he slapped me hard.  I raised a hand to my stinging cheek and gasped.  'What was _that_?'

'You are going to listen to me, Draco Malfoy,' he said darkly, crawling up my body to pin me down.

I tried to roll away or roll him over, but he whispered a charm and I found to my horror my wrists were bound.  Twisting, I could see that they were held by a Gryffindor tie, and I struggled even more.  'Fuck, Potter, what the hell is wrong with you?'

'What's wrong with me?'  He laughed.  'At least I don't play games to lure unsuspecting Gryffindors into bed.'

'It was not a _game, _it was a perfectly thought-out plan, inspired by Daphne's Muggle romance films.  And you're hardly unsuspecting, you were as turned on as I was—'

I stopped when he pointed his wand at me.  'You realise you were basically bribing me to sleep with you, don't you?'

'Huh, so I was.'  I shrugged as was possible in my current position.  'Does that make you my whore?'  I wondered aloud.

'I am _not _your whore!' he snapped, pushing a hand down onto my chest to stop me writhing beneath him.

In for a Sickle, in for a Galleon, I thought. 'Sure as hell seems like it, though.'

'Shut the fuck up,' he hissed, and then he finally kissed me.

It was hard and brutal and rough and everything I would have wanted from him had I been in charge, but I wasn't and I just had the weight of his body, still clad in full school uniform, pressing down onto me and his tongue sweeping over my teeth.

I bit gently and he tugged off his robe and threw his wand to the side, grabbing my chin with his free hand and still holding me down as he tried to wrestle his jumper off.  Eventually, he fumbled for his wand and whispered 'Sciso', and rips appeared down his clothes.  He shrugged his shirt and jumper away and ripped off my flimsy pyjama top, pressing himself down on me, chest to chest.  The skin against mine was burning and sweat-sheened already, and I arched up against him, somewhere in the back of my mind registering the complete lack of power I had in that position. 

As he roughly tugged down my pyjama bottoms, coherent thought left me, and I gave myself to him.

**December 25th: The End**

_Imagination...will make a man of you_

_Imagination...can make me love him too_

Imagination...that's all I want from you 

~ Harry (and someone else before, though I can't remember who), 'Imagination'

I woke on Christmas morning to find that muscles I didn't know existed ached beyond belief and that the broom and all its accessories were missing from under my bed.

The note in their place read, 'Merry Christmas, Draco', and I told myself the pain in my chest was from Harry's palm pushing into it the night before.

I'd got what I wanted, as I'd predicted from the start, and that was all that mattered.

**~fin~**


End file.
